My eyes are pleading with Katch to fight. There’s so much fucking blood surrounding him. His color is draining from his face at a rapid pace. My mouth aches, eyes blur, and I can’t seem to form a single sentence to tell Vince he is off his rocker. Is he covering up his tracks? Did he shoot my father and is now pissed that their drug business has withered away? His haunting words about him not being my father have a choke hold around my throat tighter than his hands need. They make sense so much so that one look at my mother would give me the answer I need. I feel betrayed and relieved at that same time. They confuse me, and I don’t know what to think. The only thing I’m certain of is the man I love is dying on our floor, and I can’t get to him. I need to be there to coax and encourage him to hang on and make him swear he’ll never leave me.

My thoughts cease when I feel Vince’s hand begin to dip below the top of my pants. The shocking truth is surreal; he’s going to rape me before he kills me. I can’t let that happen. My life has been stripped from me for as long as I can remember. I will not allow this man to take away my soul. I refuse to go out this way. This bastard is going to have to kill me, because there is not a chance in hell he’s going to take what he wants from me.

My throat is raw, and my limbs tremble in fear. Think, Caitlin.

“Fuck you,” I spit, my shaky hand reaching down to grab his erection. I dig my nails into his sick, hard flesh, twist the appendage with everything I have, and kick my feet.

Vince winces, doubles over in pain, his hands flat on the ground. His breathing ragged as he fights for air. I scurry up to grab a knife off the counter and then plan to lunge at him. I can practically feel and hear the metal blade driving hard and deep into his heart.

“Fucking cunt.” He grabs me by the waist, pulling me down to the ground. My back slams to the tile floor, then Vince falls hard on me, knocking all the air out of me. The knife slides out of reach.

“Stupid bitch, you like it rough?” he screams, eyes wild, bloodthirsty, and deranged.

“Let me show you how to use a knife.” He reaches over, picking it up from the ground, places it at the corner of my eye, and drags the blade down my cheek.

I feel the streams of blood flowing down my face. Vomit lurches from my stomach when Vince leans down and licks the blood from cheek. I turn my head, pressing my cheek against the cold tile floor. My gaze connects with Katch’s barely-there eyes. Life is barely present in my man, but I refuse to break the contact. I need him to hold on. For me. For him. For our future.

I can’t get out from under Vince right now, but I vow to remain alert. When I can make my next move, it’s going to be with everything I have left in me.

“Feel how fucking hard I am for you?” He rolls his hips into me.

“If you don’t look at me while I fuck you, I’ll shoot him in the head right now,” he growls as he kicks at my feet and spreads my legs wider.

“You are a sick, evil fuck.” I turn my head to look at him. “You say I was the pawn. Have you ever thought the pawn my father played was you? Look at you now. Scrambling to cover your tracks. To tie off all the loose ends. It’s over for you. I’m a lawyer, you son of a bitch. I learned from the best, and if you think killing us will be the end of it for you, then checkmate, motherfucker, because I’m the queen and everyone knows she’s the strongest piece. You are going to go down in flames,” I snarl.

“She may be the strongest, but the king is more important.” He grips my cheeks; a smile spreads across his ugly, marred face.

“He’s the weakest, the piece that always gets captured.”

“Maybe so. Doesn’t appear to be the case this time, does it? When I bring back your head to our main drug provider, then I’m back in the game. It’s the price I have to pay to get back into good graces. Clarence would be fucking proud.”

He rolls his hips one more time then unbuttons his jeans, pulling his cock out.

This time, I do vomit when I feel the heat of his flesh flip onto the exposed skin of my abdomen. He winces, but it doesn’t deter him from his end goal. The remaining bile in my mouth is bitter, and I do my best to spit it up in his eyes. He punishes me with a strong backhand to my face. I’m wearing the fucker down. He might get the clue that I’m not going to give up. Ever.

“He’d be jealous, too. He always wanted to fuck the bastard child who ruined his life. Said your sweet cunt would be tight, since you’re such a stuck-up snob. That’s why I was shocked as hell to find out you had hooked up with the scum of the earth. A fucking biker who doesn’t exist. A ghost.”

I don’t know what kind of game he is playing by continuing to say Clarence wasn’t my father. I don’t care. He’s trying to goad me. He has no idea how wrong he is about the man I love, though. Katch isn’t scum. He’s the calm before the storm. The silver lining that has stolen my heart.

I turn my head away from this waste of a human who’s getting off by stroking his dick. My glistening eyes find Katch. I continue to stare at the only man I’ve ever loved. It’s his face I’ll hold on to. With the stare, I encourage him to fight and hold on. The trance I’ve put myself in has made my body numb, but it’s the blank look from Katch staring back at me that has my tears running free. My life is flashing before my eyes. A wilted flower that bloomed a few short days before it dies.

“Get the fuck off her,” a voice booms in my mind. Everything happens in a blinded fury. Vince shifts. I hear bones cracking. I see a black boot flying, striking Vince in the temple.

And then he’s gone. Off me. Thank God, Curtis.

I fight against my weakened state to sit up. I need to get to Katch. Fear keeps me still when I look up and notice the man isn’t Curtis. My body seizes in a panic, knowing more intruders are here with us. Could this be his higher-up and he’s here to finish the job himself? I’ve witnessed how drug dealers work through evidence in the courtroom. They don’t send their minions to do a job. They do it themselves, or they hire a man like Katch to do it for them. This man is a hired killer.

“Reason you got your dick out?” The man kneels down next to Vince and then spits in his face.

He seems more enthralled at the moment with Vince than me. I scramble over to Katch. Fucking blood is everywhere. I reach into his back pocket to find his phone. I need to dial 911 for help. He’s going to die if I don’t, which is my only concern.

I huddle over him, keeping a palm on his back, feeling his barely-there intakes of breath as I start to punch in the numbers.

“Who you calling?” The man’s voice is at my ear.

I crane my neck. His piercing green eyes and dark hair are a ghost of someone I should know. He...He looks familiar.

“Who the fuck are you calling?” he asks again.

“He needs help. He’s dying,” I stutter out.

“Hang up and call Curtis.”

“Are...are you with Curtis?”

He shakes his head no. “Do what I tell you.”

“Who are you?” I ask.

“I’m your dad,” he replies.

I’m not even able to process his words before Curtis busts through the door.

“Jesus. Fuck!” he roars and kicks the other man in the head. He groans, and I jump when Curtis shoots him in his head.

The man who pulled Vince off me steps back. “Don’t shoot. I’m here to help.”

“Who the fuck are you?” Curtis bellows. “Snake, find Brick, and Doc, get your ass in here. Katch is bleeding out.”

I’m soon pushed off Katch while the doctor begins working on him. I let my fingers run circles in the pool of Katch’s blood. He’s in bad shape. Seeing his lifeless, bleeding body in front of me is worse than the thought of being raped by Vince.

“Caitlin, are you alright?” My mind is blank. “Caitlin?”

I jerk my head up. Curtis has a gun pointing at the man’s head. All I can do is nod.

“I’m Trent Welsh. Caitlin’s dad,” he finally speaks up.

Curtis keeps the gun on him while he backs up to my mother, pulling the duct tape from her lips.

“He’s telling the truth,” she admits.

In a sick and twisted way, the blood on my fingertips is the only calming effect right now keeping me from processing everything going on around me. My head is full; my brain cells are fried. Noises, so many of them I can’t think straight. Life, death. The ever after. It’s consuming me while threatening to swallow me whole.

“I want this fucker dead,” Trent speaks up. “I’ve been tracking him for years to find Louisa. Clarence wouldn’t talk. I needed this fucker to find her.”

Vince stirs on the ground once again, and Trent sends his boot to the side of his head. This has to be a nightmare, but it’s not.

Curtis nods, strides over to kneel down in front of me. His hand reaches up to palm my cheek.

“How is he?” He directs the question at Doc.

“Not good. I need to get him to the hospital.”

“Get it done. No questions asked,” Brick orders.

“Katch, man.” Curtis shakes his shoulder. “Going to take this fucker out. Know you want a piece, man, but no time.”

Katch nods in understanding then struggles to speak three simple words.

“I love you.”

I lean in and kiss his cheek then whisper in his ear. “About time, baby. I love you so fucking much.”

“Everything is going to be fine, Caitlin.” Curtis places a palm on my shoulder. “Do you fucking hear me? He needs you. Go with him. Don’t you worry about your mom. Nobody. You stay right where Doc tells you, and you keep your mouth shut. Do you get me?”

I can’t respond. Curtis shakes my knee then pulls my chin up so I look into his eyes. “He needs you. Stand up now and go with him.”

I look down to my clothes that have blood all over them.

“Come on, baby girl.” He helps me up.

Trent makes his way over to us. “I’m sorry. I tried.” He’s apologizing. For what? I don’t understand.

“Not fucking right now.” Curtis shoves him in the chest.

Trent backs off with his hands raised above his head. I watch him go to my mother and help her out of her binds. Curtis leads me to the bedroom, cleans my face, and dresses me in clean clothes, and the last thing I remember are the red-glowing taillights of the vehicle where Katch lies inside in front of us.